Well, my blogaversary was Wednesday… the only reason I remember this is because MY DOMAIN EXPIRED. Here I was naively signing in to post something… completely oblivious to the drama that was about to unfold… and snarkykitten was GONE! *Gasps* I actually panicked. Not only had the domain expired… but I couldn’t remember the login for it or the email associated with it. LOL It never occurs to me to write these things down. And it’s not like I have one of those amazing photographic memories. I forget stuff… a lot. But say I had written it down… the paper would be lost right now anyway… so save the lectures, people! This is why I need a personal assistant… to keep track of life’s daily annoyances for me.

AND… all I really came to say was… SNOWWWWWW DAYYYYYYYYYYY!!!! Woohoooooooo! Now I can catch up on things that a personal assistant would normally do for me

(I apologize if you were also greeted with a cat food ad instead of my wonderful musings over the last couple of days. *Winks* Special thanks to Shep and Kseniya for helping me get my domain back!)

A few odd things that only my tightest homies (lol) know about me (and now you):

- I have two master’s degrees.  Yes, that’s right… TWO!  I is smart.  Actually… the hardest part about graduate school is paying for it… oh… and keeping myself… from using… ellipses… in my thesis…

- I have had half of a sewing needle stuck in the bottom of my left foot for 20 years.  You could say I’m the bionic woman… and man my bionic foot ached today… the price of being a superhero, I suppose.

- My Commodore64 was the greatest thing I’ve ever owned.  I miss it.  Typing 8,798,479 lines of code to get it to print my name across the screen… that’s some fine, quality fun.  Perhaps today’s kids need C64′s.  They are so used to instant gratification… I think hours of work for a very small payout would be a good life lesson… in fact, the best life lesson.  Can I get an amen?

- When I was 15, I danced on second base and home plate on opening day in Comiskey Park… WITH Mickey Mouse and the gang.  I know, right?  What’s sad is… I can still recall all of the songs and could probably fake my way through the whole routine today.  (To the tune of “I Need a Hero”… 5-6-7-8… Where have all the heroes gone, yes we are here to say… a guy like Joe DiMaggio would really make our day…)  LOL!

- One of my jobs in college involved being a “Professional Bra Fitter”.  Jealous?  AND I had a snazzy ribbon attached to my ID badge stating that I had earned this prestigious title.  Unfortunately, it meant I also had to measure a few racks… but that’s a whole other blog entry waiting to happen.  A friend recently asked if I had to undergo any further training to keep my certificate valid.  Of course!  I’m hoping to get endorsed in moobs next.

Are these the defining moments of my life?  Not so much.  Conversation starters?  Sometimes.  Reasons why I should be in therapy?  Absolutely.

… to my Big Book of Grievances.

He left me the nastiest note this weekend… something along the lines of “Bitch, pick up your mail!” And what’s worse… he kidnapped all my mail and took it back to his lair (the post office). I had to go and wait in a 20 minute line with Toothless Tommy and Stands Too Close Sally.

“I’m here to pick up my mail,” I stated with confidence to the woman behind the counter. “Was it on vacation hold?” she inquired. I shrunk a bit as I murmured, “No, I got in trouble for my mailbox being too full.” She lumbered off and was gone for what seemed like an eternity. I was expecting her to come out dragging one of those huge “fan mail” sized sacks… but it was a modest little bag… just slightly bigger than a barf bag. (Which is so appropriate as my mail makes me want to barf!) I was expecting a lecture, instead she complained about one of the jerks in the back (no doubt, my mailman).

That blasted mailman… he’s forgotten about the time that he left me two books of stamps when I only paid for one… and I returned the extra book to him with a pleasant note. That was the honeymoon phase, I guess. A note alone would have shamed me into being more punctual with my mail… but he had to involve an errand… to the post office! *shudders*

I don’t have any power to do anything in retaliation… and now I have to walk the 10 miles down to my mailbox to pick up my mail every day or my life will be in danger… but I CAN secretly loathe him from afar… and I plan on doing just that. (I’m sure the feeling is mutual!)

A dark shadow has fallen upon the snarky kingdom.  I’m beyond depressed.  Is it the economy?  No.  Seasonal Affective Disorder?  I wish.  A plague of boils and locusts?  I could be so lucky.  What I have to share with you is much more apocalyptic than any of these.

MILLER HAS STOPPED PRODUCING ZIMA!   *Collapses*

OK… I know you’re thinking, “Wait… they were still making it?” And yes they were.  I haven’t had it in years, but it was always there on the beer shelf like an old favorite blanket.  It was comforting to know that my all time favorite beverage would always be there for me (even though it hasn’t been socially acceptable in a long time).  Sometimes I would stare at it longingly as I passed by… too embarrassed to buy it.  I was waiting for its comeback.

I have so many fond memories of Zima.  Road trips, nights out, nights in, smuggling 40 oz. Zima’s into the movies.  (ROFL… yes, they made 40′s.)  When it was new, everybody drank it… even boys!  It really was a great drink.., not as bitter and filling as beer… not as sweet and thick as other girly drinks.  “Zomething Different” the ads would affirm.  *Sigh*

This morning, an email was instantly circulated among my closest friends with the subject “OMG BAD NEWS”.  We will be buying every 6- pack of Zima we can get our hands on so that we can have a bon voyage party for Zima… to lay our dear friend to rest.  *Hears Taps playing in the background*

… your regularly scheduled program for the following geek update:

Holy patch, Batman!  We got a new update for Warcraft last night to prepare for the expansion coming out next month.  I won’t bore you with all the nerdy details… but OH-EM-GEE, I love love LOVE the new talents.  I’m an absolute monster now!  The only problem is… so is everyone else (grrrrrrrr).  Some seriously fun stuff, though!  Wheeeeeee!

Our classes are always being asked to create displays for special events in the school.  They are usually a part of some competition.  Not to sound conceited, but my class generally wins.  Well… we win when we TRY to win.

Yes, that’s right… I don’t always try to win.  Why?  I have a competitive spirit, but also some common sense.  If the prize for winning a contest is a field trip to an undisclosed location planned by the most disorganized person in the school… then I’m pretty much going to do the minimum to avoid winning.  If there is a pizza party or something fun involved (and impossible for someone to screw up)… then we’re going all out!

There are other highly competitive teachers, too… but they always do their best.  They’re always nervous, too.  I purposely wait and make mine the last one up just to generate a little fear.  Like this week, for example…  we were asked to create a display about our assigned country for Hispanic Heritage Month.  I waited until the last minute to do mine (traditional Snarky style).  In the meantime, one teacher in particular was very nervous about this.  I took advantage of the situation and had a co-worker plant some information at lunch time.  “I can’t figure out what Snarky is up to… she’s been very secretive about her project!”  Mission accomplished… everyone was all worked up by the afternoon.

Then my plan backfired.  I started to feel like the display should have a little something extra just to warrant all the hype.  Not enough to win, but enough to keep my reputation in tact.  So I decided to add a LITTLE flair to our display.  Apparently it was too much flair… everyone was buzzing about how cute it turned out.  (Obviously, I have no idea how powerful my flair truly is.  LOL)  Now I’m the one who is super nervous… we just might win this thing.  And even worse… the prize hasn’t been announced… the great unknown!  Serves me right for stirring up trouble.